


Your Scent Lingers

by allthosepaperpeople



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5 Times, Cuddling, Drinking Games, I suck at tagging, M/M, This is very happy, Underage Drinking, also im not really sure where this is going, and by that i mean nobody dies, and im guessing im not the only one, and there will be a sappy happy ending, because i need that right now, but not completely, everybody (almost) is alive, im thinking about puppies tbh, just a little, people strip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-02-10 12:44:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2025549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthosepaperpeople/pseuds/allthosepaperpeople
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles keeps waking up in Derek´s bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The One Where Stiles Falls Asleep On A Table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I'm just saying, he gets cranky when he sleeps in a position like this. Get him horizontal.”

Derek doesn't think he will ever get used to having a pack of his own. He's supposed to be a Beta, and sometimes it feels like he's trying to be something he's not. But when he steps out of the bathroom and back into the main part of the loft, when he sees Erica and Boyd, snuggled together on the couch, eyes slowly falling shut, when he sees how Isaac and Scott and Allison are cleaning up the kitchen while bantering easily, when he sees Lydia painting Kira's nails and Stiles at the table writing something, he thinks that this isn't all that bad.

He's starting to get the hang of being the Alpha if he's honest. Guiding, not pushing. That's what Talia always said to Laura. Let them make their own mistakes, but give them support. You can't force them to respect you, they have to come back around themselves.

It seems to be working.

And it feels good.

Actually, things in general are really good. There are no current threats in Beacon Hills, haven't been for almost six months now. They don't come together because they need to, but somehow Derek almost never finds himself alone at evenings, and if he does, he gets invited to tag along with the rest.

Of course, there is bickering and everything you would expect from a group of teenagers, but Derek can handle it. Absolutely.

The kitchen is cleaned and Kira's nails apparently done because slowly, people start moving. Boyd carries Erica out the door, giving Derek a nod. Kira hugs him. He's gotten used to it by now. Lydia reminds him to buy more fruit tomorrow. Allison gives him a silent smile. Derek remembers how the glances she gave him used to be deathly. Issac stands awkwardly at the door until Derek grabs him by the shoulder and shoves him out. “Go on”, he says, “I'll see you tomorrow.” 

Sometimes, Isaac needs it, the affirmation that Derek still wants him around. Derek still feels guilty for how he treated him at the beginning, but when he tried to apologize, Isaac just gave him a smile and said not to mention it. Derek is still not sure whether it's okay to follow that petition.

Stiles is completely buried in whatever it is that he's writing. Looks like homework, if Derek is honest. Scott, who is supposed to drive Stiles home, has to say his name three times before his best friend snaps out of it.

“Huh?”, Stiles says and looks up.

“Everybody is leaving”, Scott says, “We should head home, too.”

Stiles face crunches. Dereks heart flutters.  
”Let me just finish this, okay?”

“I wanna go home, Stiles.”

“I can drive him.” Derek isn't aware he said that out loud until Stiles claps and says: “See, you can go home, Scott.”

He sounds a little annoyed. Derek has been wondering if they're fighting. There is tension between them.

Scott gives in to whatever silent discussion is going on. “Fine”, he says, “whatever.”

He flops down on the couch and turns on the TV. Stiles isn't even listening anymore. He's writing.

Derek gets his book from the bedroom and sits down on the couch, too. It takes two pages and he's completely lost in the story again.

 

When he looks up again, there is some weird science fiction movie on the TV, Scott is asleep and when Derek checks the clock, it's two in the morning. He gets up, careful so he doesn't wake Scott. He looks comfortable.

Unlike Stiles. He's fallen asleep on the table, one arm flat on the table, the other dangling under it. His head is lying on his hand and the scrapbook underneath it, all in a very weird angle. Derek hesitates for a moment, then he gets a blanket from the bedroom, a nice, fluffy one, and tiptoes over to Stiles and starts slowly putting it around Stiles shoulder.

“He's gonna be cranky tomorrow, I hope you know that”, Scott's voice comes from the couch, sleepy and low.

Derek startles.

Scott is grinning at him from the couch as if he knows the lotto numbers for tomorrow.

“What?” Derek doesn't mean to sound like this, so harsh and unfriendly. Scott only smiles wider.

“I'm just saying, he gets cranky when he sleeps in a position like this. Get him horizontal.”

And Scott winks.  
He honestly winks at Derek. Derek is at a loss for words. But Scott just grabs his jacket and heads for the door.

“Wait, you're not taking him with you?” He feels stupid the second he says it. He should be telling Scott to crash on the couch, not to drive this late and this tired. But instead, he only asks if Stiles is staying here. As if that's the only thing that matters.

Scott shrugs. “He'll thank me in the morning. I don't want him to fall off the bike because he can't keep awake. He's all yours!”

And he winks again and is gone.

Derek stands there with the cuddly blanket in his hands like an idiot. He's contemplating waking Stiles up and driving him home, but it seems cruel. The problem is, he can't put him on the couch. Last time, Stiles had a nightmare, fell off the couch and hit his head bad enough to have to get stitches. Derek can't forget it, how the sound of a falling body and the smell of blood woke him simultaneously and he was so scared that something had gotten in, so terrified that... No. The couch is not an option. So he crouches behind Stiles and pulls the sleeping body back against his chest. Stiles doesn't wake up. Then he grabs him underneath the knees and scoops him up. Stiles just sighs and buries his head in Dereks shoulder. Derek's stomach feels funny. His nose is full of Stiles' scent and it drives him insane, just a little bit.

He carries him to the bed and drops him carefully. He takes off Stiles' shoes and hesitates, but decides that that's it, he can't do more. So he tucks the boy in and turns off the light.

 

 

Stiles really doesn't want to wake up. His eyes are still closed, he's coming out of sleep slowly, and the sheets are soft and the blanket warm.

But he really has to pee.

But the bed is so comfortable.

But he _really_ has to pee.

And the pillow feels strange somehow. He opens his eyes and sits up. It's not his bed he's lying in. The room is familiar, but he can't place it. There is a bookshelf filled to burst, a dresser with an open drawer, a mirror on the wall. Stiles stares at his reflection for a moment. He's completely dressed, but looks very rumpled. He must have lost his hat at some point - yes, there it is, on the ground. He puts his feet to the ground - his shoes are lying at the end of the bed. As he stands up he sees the windows, and it dawns on him that he must be in Dereks bedroom. The industrial windows are a little dirty, but light is flooding the room. Derek needs to get curtains, he thinks. He grabs his hat and his shoes and opens the door slowly.

The couch that is standing with its back to him seems to be occupied by someone, but Stiles can only see a hand poking out over the edge. He really hopes there's an arm attached to it. He rubs a hand over his face and yawns. Then his eyes fall on the open sketchbook that is lying on the table.

_Please tell me Derek didn't read that._

He scrambles over to the book and knocks over the chair. There is the sound of a body hitting the ground and then Derek is charging over the couch, all wolved out, claws ready to slice.  
Stiles shrieks and jumps back. Derek comes to a sudden halt and turns back human.

“Jesus, Stiles”, he says and drives a hand through his hair. “I thought you were something evil.”

Stiles swallows and nods a little nervously. “Yeah, I was hoping you weren't actually thinking something like _let's maim Stiles_ , but you know, kinda hard to tell with you coming at me like that.”

“Sorry”, Derek mumbles.

“Did you just say _sorry_?” Stiles can't really trust his ears on that.

Derek glares. “Don't sweat it”, he growls and yep, that's more like the Derek he knows. “What were you writing yesterday, anyways?” The werewolf takes a step forward and starts reaching for the sketchbook and no, that's not gonna happen. Stiles lunges forward, hits his knee against the knocked over chair and grabs the book, wincing with the pain.  
”The hell?”, Derek mumbles, but just throws his hands up a little bit and turns around and goes into the kitchen.

Stiles goes to pee. He takes his book with him.

 

“Where is Scott?”, Stiles voice says from behind him. Derek tenses and presses a button on the coffee machine. The scent of coffee masks the one coming from the boy.  
”He left yesterday. He didn't want to wake you.”

 _He'll thank me in the morning_. Derek still isn't really sure what that was supposed to mean.

“Oh.”

The first coffee is done and Derek turns around to hand the mug to Stiles.

He's sitting on the counter and his shirt is rumpled and he hair is sticking up in every possible direction and he smells like DerekAndStiles. It's so strong now, the scent, and Derek's heart clenches painfully.

He puts the mug next to Stiles and makes himself another coffee. The smell isn't enough to cover up DerekAndStiles behind him.

“Thanks for letting me crash on your bed, by the way”, Stiles says and Derek just nods.

The silence is sleepy, peaceful, so domestic that Derek can't stand it anymore. As soon as Stiles has finished his coffee he puts his own mug down and says a little harshly: “I'll drive you home.”

Stiles gives him a look he can't identify and jumps down from the counter. They grab shoes and jackets and Stiles stuffs the ominous sketchbook into his bagpack and follows Derek down to the Camaro.  
Before he gets behind the steering wheel Derek stops for a moment, takes a deep breath to prepare himself. Car rides with Stiles aren't easy for him. The scent spreads and won't leave afterwards.

He gets in.

The silence is strained this time and Derek can't stand it. He puts on the radio.

The sound is all bass and electronic and the the singer starts singing about ...

Sex.

He's singing about sex. The silence gets even more awkward.

Derek has never been this glad to have reached Stiles house.

“Thanks”, Stiles mumbles as he gets out of the car, “see you.”

And then he disappears into the house and Derek drives home and falls into his bed and inhales the scent that Stiles left and feels like crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Tumblr! 
> 
> allthosepaperpeople.tumblr.com


	2. The One With Monopoly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You put wolfsbane in the drinks when I wasn't here, didn't you." It's not a question. Derek knows it. He knows because of course, he used to do it, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for underage drinking and people loosing their clothes. I had to update the warnings for this one. 
> 
> Also, this isn't beta'd yet. It's past two AM and I really just want to get it out, so sorry for any mistakes. 
> 
> Enjoy, leave a comment and maybe talk to me on tumblr (allthosepaperpeople.tumblr.com)!

**Scott:**

**meeting @dereks in half hour you in?**

Stiles stares at the message for a moment. It´s Friday night and no surprise that Scott will be at Derek's place. Sometimes he thinks that he only gets invited out of habit - it's not like Scott actually  _values_ him being there anymore. It's been at least a month since the last time they've done something together. Just the two of them. 

Stiles knows it's stupid to be jealous. He isn't romantically interested - but lately he's just been thinking about how things were before Scott got bitten, about how there was no pack, there was just them. He wouldn't even mind just Allison, but Isaac... It's stupid, but Stiles feels like he has been replaced.

It's fine, most of the time, really. He has things to do. But sometimes, when the weekend rolls along, he just wants to have a video game sleepover without Isaac. 

But then again, he feels bad about thinking these things. Because Isaac has been through hell, and it's okay that Scott has other friends, really, but why does that mean that Stiles doesn't even talk to him about important stuff anymore? 

A little voice in the back of his mind says that it's because Stiles isn't pack. Not really, anyways. He's the only one of them that isn't. 

He has considered finding new friends, just to have someone else to hang out with, people that actually _like_ hanging out with him, but the things that are important to him, the stuff that has shaped him, he can't tell anyone. 

Besides, none even  _wants_ to hang out with him. It's kinda depressing, really . 

His phone chirps again. 

**Scott:**

**were getting wasted come on its gonna be fun**

And that has Stiles attention - not because he wants to get wasted but because werewolves can't get drunk. Him and Scott have tried often enough. 

**Stiles:**

**what do u mean wasted u cant get drunk idiot**

He isn't sure how happy Derek would be if they actually  _would_ get drunk at his apartment. He grins. Just for the 100%-done-face it would be absolutely worth trying. 

**Scott:**

**allison found some wolfsbane**

Stiles actually huffs a laugh at that. He read about that in the bestiary, but if he's honest, it sounded like a myth. Why would a hunters handbook have content about having fun as a werewolf? 

**Stiles:**

**ur not actually thinking about poisoning urself on purpose**

**Stiles:**

**i have to see this**

**Stiles:**

**pick me up in 20**

He goes to take a shower. 

***

He grabs the bottle of Jack Daniels from his Dad's liquor cabinet - his Dad doesn't drink, and when he does, he never touches the Jack Daniels. He used to drink that with Stiles' mom. He won't even miss it. 

He puts the bottle in his backpack and adds some poptarts and chocolate - he gets sugar cravings when he drinks, and he doesn't want to rely on Derek to have sweets in the loft. He's always surprised when Derek actually has food in his fridge. 

For a second he hesitates but then he takes the sketchbook with him, too. You never know. 

There's a knock on the door and he grabs his hoodie and the bagpack and opens the door. 

He expects Scott to be standing there, but instead it's Kira. 

"Surprise?", she says, but he can see that his face must tell her that he would be happier if she was Scott. Her smile falters a little. 

It's not fair, Stiles thinks, because he really likes Kira, and she is always very nice to him. So he steps forward and hugs her. She's a very touchy-feeley person, everybody knows that.   
She relaxes and hugs him back and Stiles gives himself a mental high five for saving the situation. She releases her grip and beams up at him and says: "Come on, let's go. I wanna see Derek's face when he gets what we're planning. Also, we have to take the jeep. My dad just dropped me off."

Yeah, tonight might just be exactly what he needs. 

 ***

Stiles and Kira are the first ones to arrive at the loft and they ride the elevator in friendly chatter. Kira tells him how she managed to set the curtains on fire yesterday and shows him a draft for a tattoo she would like to get on her phone. 

The loft door isn't locked - it never is. Derek should really update his security system. Wolfears may be good, but they're not that good. 

The loft smells good, almost like... 

"Oh god Derek, are you making  _cookies_?", Stiles squeaks just as Kira laughs: "Since when do you  _bake_?"

It's too cute, if Stiles is honest. Derek is standing in the kitchen, some flour on his black shirt, and his ears are red. Really red. He doesn't respond but instead growls, turns around and starts cleaning the kitchen hastily.   
"Come on, Derek", Kira says with a smile, "no need to be ashamed of making cookies."

"Yeah", Stiles agrees, "could be worse. We could have walked into you jerking off." Kira jabs him in the ribs, still laughing. 

Derek drops the big bowl he's holding and it shatters on the ground with a loud bang. 

"Shit", Stiles says and Derek says dryly: "Thank you for that brilliant remark. Give me the broom that's over there."

 ***

When twenty minutes later Scott and the others come in, the kitchen is clean and a plate full of cookies sits on the counter. They smell delicious and are gone faster than Derek can tell them to leave some for later. Damn. Now he's gonna have to make new ones for tomorrow. 

"You didn't tell me you were coming over", Derek says to Scott and it sounds a little accusing, even to his own ears. Scott just claps him on the shoulder. "I know. Sorry. Ally, you got it?

"Got what?", Derek says and now he's getting nervous. Normally, Scott tells him when they are coming over. It seems like the teenagers are up to something, and Derek isn't sure if _he's_ up for that. 

"Nothing", Stiles says and smiles at him. Boyd gets some bottles of beer out of the fridge and the bickering about which movie to watch starts. Derek doesn't mind them drinking beer, it doesn't do anything for them. They just like the taste. But when Stiles grabs a bottle too, he snatches it away and firmly says: "No."

But Stiles looks at him with these long lashes and half grins and says: "Come on, that's unfair. I won't tell anyone."

Derek is weak. "One", he says, and Stiles smile makes his heart flutter again. 

 ***

Derek doesn't know how this happened. Well, he knows  _exactly_ how it happened, but he's not sure how he could  _let it happen_. 

He only went to the bathroom for a minute or so and nothing seemed to have changed. Then he went to get more ice from the fridge because Stiles likes to chew on ice cubes and they are watching  _Star Wars_ and it would be cruel to make him miss anything. (Mostly he goes because Stiles smiles when Derek gets him things without arguing. Derek would do a lot to see that smile.)

When he comes back, everything is still fine. Stiles is laughing even louder than usual, and Scott and Isaac seem to be cuddling even closer than usually, but hey, who is Derek to say something about it. When the movie is finished, they order pizza and Derek decides to go and get it - mostly because he doesn't like to let the pizza deliverer know where he lives, because who knows what kind of mean supernatural creature it could be. But also because it would be really mean to make that poor delivery guy deliver fifteen pizzas. Werewolves eat a lot, and the night will be long. When he leaves, they are sitting on the floor in a circle and somebody suggests playing a game. 

The pizza isn't done yet when he arrives. It takes him thirty minutes until he gets back to the loft, and when he enters, there is noise and laughter and at first, everything seems fine. The pack is still sitting on the ground in a circle, playing Monopoly, and if the smell is a little off, well, Derek is carrying pizzas in both hands, he can't even smell the flavours apart. 

He puts the pizzas on the kitchen counter just as he hears Stiles say : "If any of you bastards even think about getting on free parking I will commit homocide - wait no - i will commit whatever the hell you call killing a werewolf."

There is a slight slur in his voice, but Derek isn't worried about it. Yet.

And Erica says: "I wanna see Stiles try to even  _scratch_ a werewolf."

Kira giggles and says: "You said werewolf. Bottoms up!"

Derek frowns at that because he doesn't get the joke, but doesn't say anything. He hands Boyd the first two boxes of pizza and goes to the bathroom. 

When he comes out, Isaac is standing and struggling to get his hoodie off. Everybody is whooping. Isaac just throws it on the pile of clothes that is already next to the TV and sits down again. Now that he's paying attention, he sees that Lydia seems to be the only one that isn't missing a piece of clothes. Allison isn't wearing tights anymore, Scott has lost his shoes and one sock, Boyd is wearing boxers and his shirt and Kira is also missing a shoe. Stiles has lost his shoes and socks and his hoodie and Erica... 

Erica has stripped down to jeans and her bra. 

"What the hell are you playing?", Derek says, getting a little suspicious. It's not unusual for one of the Betas to wander around a little more freely than they would outside the pack, but the whole situation feels different than usually. 

"Monopoly?", Stiles says and tries to look innocent, but fails a little. Derek narrows his eyes on him, but doesn't say anything. Instead he starts making tea while the pack keeps playing. Nobody looks uncomfortable, so he figures there is no reason to intervene. 

"Hey, Derek", Stiles says and Derek turns around to see Lydia remove one earring with slow and slightly dismissive movements. "Care to join in? Kira has to go home, you can take her spot." 

Derek hesitates, but then he sees how Kira is swaying slightly on her feet and shakes his head. He didn't know foxes could get drunk, but apparently they can, and now she is. 

"Look", he says, "I don't think she should drive."

"Oh I'm not driving", Kira says and giggles. "My Dad is waiting downstairs."

"I'll walk you there", Scott says and jumps up. He's swaying too. Derek narrows his eyes again. "Are you  _drunk_?" 

Everybody starts giggling and laughing and then it hits Derek. He looks at Allison, who grins at him defiantly and a little guilty at the same time, and he understands. 

"You put wolfsbane in the drinks when I wasn't here, didn't you." It's not a question. Derek knows it. He knows because of course, he used to do it, too. 

"Are you mad?" Of course it is Isaac that asks him that, looking up to Derek, still scared that Derek will be disappointed and throw him out or into a wall or something.

Sometimes, Derek thinks that he grew up too fast, and that these teenagers are his chance to do the crazy stuff again. Not all the time, just, every once in a while he decides that he can have this. It's okay to have something good now. And if he's honest, he really wants to play this crazy version of Monopoly with them. 

"No, Isaac, I'm not." Isaac relaxes visibly. 

Derek turns to Kira and she hugs him and he hugs back and it's good. He watches Scott leave and doesn't miss Allison's expression of deep thought. Then he takes the empty pizza boxes from Boyd and brings new ones. Erica takes the blanket off the alcohol arsenal they have assembled and Stiles pats the ground next to him where Kira was sitting before.   
For a brief moment, Derek contemplates ignoring him and sitting somewhere else. But if he's honest, he wants to sit next to Stiles. He really does. And so he thinks, fuck it, sinks to the ground and crosses his legs. Stiles pokes him with his elbow and Derek pokes back. Lydia hands him a shotglass and Stiles explains the rules.

"Basically, you drink everytime you have to pay rent. You still have to pay, of course. Actually, you drink every time you have to pay  _anything._ And when you can't pay you take of clothes. Also, when you land on your own property, you strip." His voice is really slurred now, and the way he looks at Derek with those lashes and how he worries his lip between his teeth...

Derek needs a drink if he wants to get through this. 

 ***

"I will _end_ you", Stiles promises Derek and takes his shot. 

"Tell you what", Derek says, "if you beat me, you get to sleep in the bed and I sleep on the balcony. You loose, you sleep outside. Deal?"

Stiles knows it's dumb. But turning down a challenge? Never. 

 ***

Allison and Scott and Isaac are curled up around one another, Boyd is leaning against the couch with Erica's head on his lap and all of them are sleeping peacefully. The game has come down to Lydia, who is broke, Stiles, who has only three properties but somehow still has money, and Derek, who is currently trying to figure out whether he should spend the three rounds in prison or buy himself out. 

"This is pathetic", Lydia says and yawns.

"What?", Stiles says and looks up. He's really drunk, but still wearing pretty much everything. Derek catches himself wishing Stiles would end up on his own property just  _once_ , but that's a very bad thought so he tries to think of sleeping arrangements instead. 

"It's not even midnight and everybody is asleep." Lydia yawns again. Her makeup doesn't look flawless anymore, and her speech is a little slurred, too. "I want to go home", she says and looks around a little sadly.   
"I could call you a cab?", Stiles says. Lydia nods. Allison stirs and murmurs: "I wanna go home, too."

Derek tries to remember why that wouldn't be such a good idea, but it's hard. He can't remember the last time he was this drunk. 

It's a little embarrassing, if he's honest. 

"My parents aren't home", Lydia says, "you can crash at my place if you want." Isaac and Scott seem to think that moving is a bad idea, but when Lydia mentions actual beds instead of blankets on the floor, they agree to go to her house. 

Allison tries to help cleaning, but Derek just waves and makes his move. Everybody watches Derek and Stiles play against each other. They have stopped the drinking part long ago, now only playing to win. 

At some point, Allison suggest they should stop. 

"Give up? Never!", Stiles says, and Derek adds, "I'm not sleeping on the balcony."

***

"Text me the result tomorrow", Isaac says and gives Derek a really drunk hug. Erica is migrating to the couch, Boyd is already sleeping on the other one. Derek and Stiles are still playing. 

***

Stiles is trying very very hard not to laugh, but his shoulders are shaking and Derek thinks that he might just fall over from it. He takes off his belt and Stiles stops laughing, stares at him and then declares: "Cheater!"

Ten minutes later he takes off his belt, too. 

***

Derek takes off his shirt. Stiles isn't laughing anymore. 

***

Stiles stares at the board with an expression that Derek is pretty sure could be interpreted as heartbroken. "I lost", Stiles says, "I can't believe it. This is the first time in ten years that I've lost at Monopoly."

Derek laughs. Stiles looks beautiful, and so _adorable_ right now, he can't handle it. Stiles shakes his head. "I can't believe I have to sleep on the balcony."

"You don't have to." Normally, Derek would make him. At least for a couple of minutes, if only not to raise suspicion. But he's drunk, and he's tired, and it's cold outside. He's not heartless. In fact, when it comes to Stiles, he sometimes wishes he was.

"I lost the bet. And the bed." Stiles chuckles. 

"Look", Derek says, and hesitates. They are sitting right across from each other, legs crossed, knees touching. Derek can see the moles on Stiles' face. Can see where he keeps worrying the lower lip. 

He wants to touch so badly. But he can't. And were he sober he wouldn't even  _consider_ saying this, let alone actually do it. But he won't give up his bed for anything tonight, and he can't stand the idea of Stiles sleeping on the floor, and Stiles' eyes are on him, slowly dragging his gaze all over Derek's face, briefly flickering down to his naked torso and up again. 

If Derek didn't know better, he would probably think that Stiles is attracted to him. But he knows better. 

Still. There is no harm in offering. He can always pretend not to remember tomorrow. 

"I'm not giving up my bed", he says, and watches Stiles tongue dart out and lick his lips, "but if you don't mind sharing, my beds big enough for two."

Stiles stares at him for a moment, mouth gone slack. Derek already regrets saying something. But then, really slowly, Stiles falls forward and buries his head in Derek's chest.

"I'm so wasted", he says, and it sounds muffled, but Derek can hear the  _okay_ in it. He's pretty sure of it.  _  
_

So they get up. They almost fall two times, but in the end, Derek is standing with his arm around Stiles' neck and an arm around his waist, and if he was sober, this would be so not okay, but he doesn't want to think, he wants to give in. So they stumble to the door and Derek hits the lights off and turns the one in his bedroom on and closes the door.

Stiles falls face first onto the mattress. His shirt rides up and Derek can see some skin, but his vision is pretty blurry right now, so he just turns around and tries to figure out where his sweatpants are. Usually he doesn't wear them to bed, but he doesn't think Stiles would appreciate that. Then he hears the rustling of fabric and when he turns around, Stiles has his butt in the air and is trying to wriggle out of his jeans. 

He falls off the bed, but eventually manages to kick them off, then he throws his shirt after it and climbs under the comforter. 

Derek did not think this through. 

He stands there for what feels like forever, contemplating whether he should sleep in boxers too, like he usually does, or just flee and sleep on the ground, but then Stiles mumbles into the pillow "Come to bed, Derek", and Derek doesn't think, he just follows. 

***

When Derek wakes up the next morning, he finds himself wrapped around Stiles, nose in his hair. Stiles is breathing slowly and steady, and Derek doesn't want to let go, but he's terrified that Stiles might wake up and notice that 1, Derek is spooning him, 2, Derek has a boner, and 3, that Derek is completely and totally okay with both. 

So he frees himself, thanks the god or the moon or whoever for not having a hangover and goes into the kitchen. Boyd and Erica are still sleeping. 

Derek goes to the bathroom, then he makes pancakes. It doesn't take long for the Betas to wake up, and they have a nice breakfast. Around noon, they have cleaned everything up and Boyd suggests they should leave for home. Right before she goes out the door, Erica smirks and says: "So, who took the balcony?" Derek glares and says: "Get out."

In retrospective, that probably wasn't the best answer. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, the sketchbook has not been forgotten! :)


	3. The One Where There Is Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dude, what's with the baking?”, he says, and goes into the bathroom to get an aspirin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't planned. Oops. It was supposed to be just the beginning of the new chapter but it kinda got away from me.  
> Sorry.
> 
> For further information on what happened in this 'verse in the past and the relation to the actual show, check the end notes.
> 
> Enjoy! :)

When he hears Erica's car pull out of the parking lot, Derek closes his eyes for a moment and relishes in the silence. Then, he gets the ingredients out and starts making cookies. The first tray is in the oven, so he turns around and looks for his book.

That's when he sees it.

Stiles' bag is lying opened on the floor, and the sketchbook is peeking out.

Derek thinks the first time he's seen it was about a month ago, when Stiles fell asleep on the table, but it’s been around since then. Stiles doesn't take it out often, usually he just has it with him in his bag, but sometimes he splits himself off the group and sits somewhere, writing in it. He never lets anybody see the contents. Derek remembers him yelling  
at Scott once, when he wouldn't back off, and since then, nobody mentions it anymore.

Derek doesn't like secrets. He doesn’t like it when there’s something that he doesn’t know about because secrets are the reason everything usually goes to hell. Kate had secrets. Jennifer had secrets. And now Stiles has one. _Again_.

Derek doesn't blame Stiles for everything that went down. He knows that it wasn’t Stiles’ fault, and he knows that Stiles did none of it deliberately. He’s glad that he’s getting  
better. But the secrecy around this goddamn sketchbook bothers Derek. Deeply. What if it’s the beginning of something bad again? It’s been very quiet lately.

He crouches down in front of the bag and reaches for it, but hesitates.

Stiles will probably hate him if he does that. And that’s really the last thing Derek wants.

Then he hears rustling inside his bedroom and the choice is taken away from him. He gets up quickly and goes back into the kitchen to make the next tray of cookies.

***

The pillow is wrong. Stiles jumps up and panics for a moment - where is he?

Then he recognizes Derek's bedroom. He tries to remember how he ended up in the bed, but he can’t even remember who won the -.

The bet. Derek had lost, obviously. Not surprising, but Stiles still feels bad for making him sleep outside. But Derek’s bed is very comfortable, so he doesn’t feel too bad. Just a  
little bad.

_The bed would be even more comfortable if Derek was in it **with** you._

Stiles ignores that thought. He has lots of practice with that. He gets dressed and slowly makes his way out of the door, just to see Derek standing in the kitchen, rolling out some kind of dough. There is flour in his hair and some chocolate on his cheek. It's _adorable_.

But also a little out of character.

"Dude, what's with the baking?”, he says, and goes into the bathroom to get an aspirin.

Derek doesn't reply, which is not surprising in the least. Stiles watches him get the tray out of the oven and put the hot cookies on a plate.

Derek hits him on the fingers with a towel when he tries to sneak one. "Don't. Touch."

"Dude. Give me a cookie."

"You can have some that don't fit into the box at the end."

Derek turns around again. Stiles sneaks a cookie.

"I saw that", he says and Stiles shrugs with a full mouth. "Delicious", he says and gets himself a glass of milk.

"Are you gonna tell me why you're making cookies in various animal shapes? Also, why are you so protective of them?”

Derek puts the next tray into the oven. “I’m not protective.”

“You almost cried yesterday when Erica took the last one.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

“I’d say don’t be so cranky, but you’re always cranky. I should probably give up hope sometime soon.”

“Aren’t you supposed to have a really mean hangover? Also, if you sneak another cookie, I will end you.”

“Aw, you’re adorable.”

Derek’s heart flutters at that, even though he knows Stiles means it ironically.

“And also, I don’t really have hangovers. I just have to sleep enough and I’m fine. Speaking of fine, how was the balcony?”

Derek stares at him. He can't let Stiles know, or things will just get awkward.

“What? I was in the bed, so I must have won the game?”, Stiles says and sounds a little unsure.

_Get it together, Derek._

“Yeah, you did, but...” _Think, Derek, think._ “You said that I didn't have to sleep outside if...” _Come on._ “... I promised to.. cook for you.”

_You are such an idiot._

“Cook for me.” Stiles isn't buying it, that’s obvious.

“Yeah”, Derek says and tries to swallow his panic, “don’t you remember? I told you how I make a mean..” _shit, I can’t cook anything. Shit shit shit._ “... Toast Hawaii?”

He winces a little.

Stiles stares at him, grinning impossibly wider. “I have no idea what you’re talking about but I am looking forward to that Toast Hawaii.”

He steals another cookie.

Derek grabs the plate and puts it on top of the fridge. Stiles isn’t tall enough to reach them there. He pouts.

“Come on, Der, it’s a compliment! Now tell me why you’re baking delicious cookies.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Very mature.”

“That’s _rich_ , coming from you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”, Stiles says and sits down on the counter. “I am very mature.”

“You made at least fifty dog-jokes yesterday.”

“So?”

“You _know_. Don’t even pretend you don’t. Boyd was ready to maim you.”

“You wouldn’t have let him.”

“Oh, by joke 15 I wasn’t opposed to the idea myself.”

“Liar.”

“If that’s what you tell yourself to sleep at night.”

“Why are you all so incredibly violent?”, Stiles sighs. “None of you can take a joke.” Derek turns around to say something witty, but in that exact moment Stiles accidentally pushes the mug that’s sitting next to him off the counter.

In his defense, it's pure instinct that makes Derek catch it.

“Fetch?”, Stiles says, amusement in his voice. Derek rolls his eyes.

“That was terrible.”

“I know. I used the good ones yesterday.”

“Do you ever stop being annoying?”

“I will, if you tell me what’s with the baking.”

“No.”

Stiles squints his eyes for a moment, then he gets his phone out and starts typing. Derek watches his fingers fly over the screen, and gets lost in the way Stiles is chewing on his  
lip again. Then the timer makes noise and he checks on the cookies.

“Dude, why are you ashamed of baking for charity?”

Dereks hand slips and he burns himself on the tray.

“Shit!.. What?”

“Yeah, it says here that today the animal shelter is having a bake sale and that donations are welcome, and your cookies are animal shaped and also you said something about  
leftovers that won’t fit the box, conclusion, you’re baking for the shelter.”

Stiles takes a big breath. Derek isn’t sure how he managed to string that many words together without breathing.

“So you’re baking for charity, why is it such a secret?”

Derek doesn't answer.

“Come on Derek, it’s kinda sweet. Who knew you had a heart for little puppies?”

“Are you gonna go home soon?”

“Well, no, considering how I’m coming to the sale with you.” Derek freezes. That is not going to happen, and he needs Stiles to leave now so he can get to the shelter in time, and he knows that Stiles will not be persuaded nicely to back off. The shelter is the last part of his life that the pack and Stiles are not involved in. He wants to keep it to himself. It's his tradition, his and his mothers, and while it still hurts, it's not something he is willing to let anybody see. So he does the first thing he can think of.

“You will not.” Derek turns around, grabs Stiles and throws him over his shoulder.

“What the - put me down, Derek!”

Derek grabs Stiles’ backpack with his free hand and pushes the door open and starts walking down the stairs.

“I swear to god, Derek, put me down or I will make sure my Dad arrests you again.”

“Your Dad likes me.”

“My Dad likes _me_ more.”

If Derek is honest, he's still a little afraid of the Sheriff, but it's true. For some reason, the Sheriff greets him with a smile whenever he sees Derek at the grocery store, and last week Derek got a parking ticket that said nothing but "Please stop parking all over the street. Sheriff Stilinski."

“Okay, I promise not to come to the shelter with you, but if you don’t put me down I will find a way to make sure Erica turns up.”

“I can always just put you in the basement and close the door behind me.”

“No, you - wait, if you close the door behind you, does that mean you’re still in the basement? Because in that case -”

“No. It means that you’re alone in the dark.”

At that, Stiles stops struggling. “Please don’t”, he says, and something in his voice makes Derek stop.

He puts him down, and Stiles takes a step back and fiddles his hands nervously. Derek opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He can’t think of anything to  
say.

“It’s okay, I’m leaving.” Stiles voice sounds defeated, and Derek is trying to find words to say that it's not okay, he’s sorry, he should have thought of Stiles fear of the dark, and  
if he really really wants, Stiles can come, but nothing comes out.

Instead, Stiles takes his backpack out of Dereks hand and walks away.

 

 

After that, Derek’s day sucks. His last try of cookies burns, Peter calls and is annoying and when he comes to the shelter it's raining and he's moody. Not even the puppies can make him happier and that night he falls into bed again and it smells of DerekAndStiles so strongly that he wishes he was human and didn't have to smell it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so basically every plot happened up to the defeat of the Nogitsune, but all the tragic deaths were just tragic incidents instead: Erica almost starved to death and was beaten up badly, but survived, Derek was supposed to kill Boyd but for reasons that I am not thinking about because I don't like headaches that didn't happen, Allison was stabbed but survived. She now has a very ugly scar.  
> Bye bye bikinis.  
> The twins left town. Allison's mother, Kate and Gerard are dead because I didn't like them. Peter is alive but not in BH right now. Cora is running around somewhere where it's warm and there are beaches. 
> 
> The first chapter happens roughly six months after the Nogitsune. 
> 
> For further questions, my askbox is open.  
> www.allthosepaperpeople.tumblr.com


	4. The One Where It's Totally Stiles' Fault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How.. No, I don't want to know. I want to sleep. I'm so tired I didn't even notice you were here, and I want to sleep."

Derek sucks at apologies, and he knows it.

Back when they were kids, him and Laura used to get into fights like siblings do, but the apologies weren’t sincere. They were spoken to appease Talia, who, as loving as she could be, was terrifying as an Alpha and even more terrifying as an angry mother.

Then everybody died. Derek stopped speaking for a while. When things got easier for him and Laura, the apologies became too frequent to be real. Too much went wrong. I’m sorry doesn’t cut it anymore when you have to say it every five minutes.

It’s not that Derek doesn’t feel sorry when he snaps at Scott for leaving the dishes dirty, or when he accidentally wolfs out on Stiles. He says sorry, and everybody stares at him.

But this, this thing with Stiles, it needs fixing. And fixing is something that Derek can’t do. He doesn’t know where to start, doesn’t know how to say that this time, he really is so sorry that it hurts.

He thinks he will just talk to Stiles the day after, when the pack comes together for game night. He’ll take him aside and explain that the shelter is the last thing he has that is his and that he was scared that the pack would laugh at him baking for the puppies, and that he managed to keep it to himself for so long and that he didn’t mean it, he would never lock Stiles away anywhere, and maybe tell him to come with Derek next time.

If he’s honest, there are only three people he would ever be okay with coming to the shelter: Isaac, because he would understand, and because somehow, out of all his Betas, Isaac is closest to Derek. Kira, because she wouldn’t ever mention it, but she would hug him and smile and talk to the puppies. And Stiles, because Derek feels that if he were to make it a tradition for him and someone else, it would be Stiles.

See, the problem with Derek’s feelings for Stiles are that they are so controversial. He wants him everywhere, in every space that Derek’s life has, and in between them. He wants to be surrounded by the smell of the two of them together, until there is nothing that smells like Derek alone anymore. He wants Stiles to wake him when he has one of his now rare nightmares, wants him to stay in bed all day when the fire’s anniversary rolls around because Derek can’t get up, he wants Stiles to yell at him when he does something stupid, and he wants it so badly it hurts. Because he doesn’t have it.

But most of the time he also wants to kill Stiles because he’s so obnoxious and has zero idea when to shut his mouth and because he doesn’t have an ounce of respect for Derek and really, some day, Derek is going to kill him.

And then again, Derek is also fucking terrified. And sometimes he thinks it would be better for Stiles to be gone, not here, not around Derek, who struggles so much with the scent that Stiles leaves everywhere. Some days, Derek can’t stand it. He gets grumpy and rude, he throws Stiles out because every second that he’s there is pure agony.

And Derek wants Stiles to be happy, really, but he also wants Stiles to be with him.

And that isn’t very likely to happen.

 

Game night rolls around, and Stiles doesn’t turn up.

When Derek asks Scott where he is, Scott shrugs and says: “I think he wants to spend time with his Dad. Familynight, you know?”

Derek wants to believe that that’s really all that there is to it. But somehow it’s hard.

Stiles doesn’t turn up for bowling the day after. And when he asks about it, he just gets a weird look and a “Dude, he just wants to go to bed early tonight.”

By day 5 without Stiles showing up, the Betas are getting a little nervous, too.

“Did you do something to piss him off?”, Scott asks him and Erica adds: “Yeah, he won’t answer my texts and he wasn’t at school today.”

Derek freezes. “What do you mean, he’s not at school?”, he says, “Has he been taken or something?”

Scott shakes his head. “I went to his house. He’s inside. But I think he saw me because shortly after, I got a text saying he wants to be left alone.”

 

And this is how Derek ends up knocking at Stiles’ door at eight in the evening. It’s the Sheriff who opens up.

“Derek”, he says, “what can I do for you?”

“Is Stiles there?”

Sheriff shakes his head. “He went to the library. He might not be back until ten.”

Derek swallows hard. He hasn’t prepared for Stiles not being here.

“I’ll come back another time, then.”

The Sheriff nods. Derek gets into the Camaro and drives back to the loft.

 

He tries again the day after. He’s better prepared this time, has an actual idea of what he’s going to do. He waits outside the house for a moment and listens. There is only one heartbeat in the house. He knocks. Stiles opens the door.

“Derek.”

Derek just stands there for a moment, completely at a loss of words. Then, he panicks.

He decides that words are stupid, anyways, and pushes past Stiles into the house.

“Come on in”, Stiles mutters behind him and follows him into the kitchen.

“Make yourself at home”, he adds sarcastically as Derek starts going through the cabinets, looking for a big bowl.

“What kind of supernatural emergency requires you going through my kitchen, again?”, Stiles says, and Derek turns around and says: “Shut up, Stiles. There is no emergency.”

Stiles just raises an eyebrow. “Then why are you here?”

“Cookies.”

Stiles looks at him like he’s crazy. “What?!”

“We’re baking cookies. Where the hell is your flour?”

 

Derek has to admit that he’s kinda surprised that Stiles just goes along with it, but after a while, the tension is gone. Stiles burns his tongue on a too hot cookie and insists on eating the rest of the raw dough (“You’re disgusting.” “You’re just jealous.”) and when Derek makes a very snarky comment, Stiles empties the package flour all over him.

Derek just stands there, completely dumbstruck while Stiles almost falls off the counter, shaking with laughter.  
Derek must look murderous, because the next thing Stiles does is try to run from him.

When the Sheriff opens the door he almost falls down bed cause Stiles is past him like a whirlwind and behind him is a pretty pissed off werewolf who is completely covered in flour.

Running from Derek is kinda pointless, but Derek is still trying to get the flour out of his face and his hair and his eyes and isn’t really trying to catch Stiles.

He turns around a corner and gets and entire bucket of water directly in the face. 

 

Stiles is still laughing when Derek walks over to the Camaro. Derek doesn't feel bad about leaving him to clean the kitchen. At all. He feels sticky and disgusting and really needs to shower, and he isn't really looking forward to cleaning his car, too. Right before he gets into it, he turns around. Stiles is still giggling. Somehow, that makes it all a lot better. 

“Hey”, Derek says, “We’re good, right? You’ll come back now, right?”

And Stiles just looks at him and says with a grin: “You owe me Toast Hawaii.”

 

 

Three weeks later on Monday, Derek leaves for a trip to Los Angeles. He doesn't tell anybody why he's going, just sends Boyd a text.

**Derek:**

**gone to LA wont be back before next week call if anything happens**

He double locks the loft door, hangs a sign up that says _stay out_ and drives off.  When he gets to the small house near the ocean, his chest hurts. He spent time here with Laura, years ago, and somehow, it still feels like home. Just a little bit. Daria opens the door. She has deep bags under her eyes and generally looks like she hasn't slept in days.

"You look like hell", Derek says and she cracks a smile and punches him playfully in the chest. The punch lacks energy. 

"Thank you for coming", she says and gestures for him to come inside. 

The house smells like sickness. Helena is lying on the bed, her breathing hard and ragged, the stench of her disease so strong that Derek wants to run. But he promised, and he will help. 

"Do you want to drink something?", Daria says behind him, but he just shakes his head. 

"What do you want me to do?", he asks her. "I can't save her. You know it."

She nods. "The doctors say she has a week, maybe two. I just.."

"You want me to take her pain away."

Daria shrugs. "If you don't want to..."

But Derek has already turned around and taken Helena's hand. It's cold and light, and he remembers the strength that used to be in her, how she had taken care of them when they were so broken, and he drains the pain, every last bit until her breathing is easier and she smiles at him weakly. 

It hurts. 

But it doesn't hurt as much as when Helena dies two days after that. 

 

 

Derek sticks around for the evening, but then he leaves Daria to her grief at two in the morning. She hugs him and says to come back anytime, but they both know he won't. Helena is gone, and with it is his connection to this place. 

Derek drives hard. He doesn't stop to sleep even though he feels like he's dying. He gets coffee, but he has never been this glad to see the highway exit to Beacon Hills.

He arrives at the loft at seven in the morning, so tired that he knows that if anything would attack him right now, he wouldn't have a chance. 

He opens the loft door, and everything smells like pack, like home, and for some reason, like Stiles. The smells are more distinct, now that he's spent some days without them. It smells like home. He kicks off his shoes, throws his bag on the couch, chucks his shirt and his jeans on the way to the bedroom, and is almost asleep before he falls face first onto the bed. 

And onto a warm body that jerks under him and almost gives him a heart attack. The body screams and punches him (probably accidentally) in the nose and Derek scrambles back until he falls to the ground and then the light goes on and he sees Stiles sitting in his bed, wearing his shirt, hair sticking into every direction, looking terrified.

 _"What the fuck, Stiles?!",_ Derek growls and stands up.

Stiles stares at him. "You're not supposed to be back before next week", he says.

"So you thought you'd use my  _bed_?  _Why?_ How did you even get in here?"

Stiles runs a hand over his face. "I have a key."

Derek stares at him. He's too tired for this shit. 

"How.. No, I don't want to know. I want to sleep. I'm so tired I didn't even notice you were  _here,_ and I want to sleep."

Stiles looks defeated. "Sure", he says and gets up. He grabs his clothes and his bag and murmurs a "see you", then he walks past Derek and Derek feels heartless.

"Wait", he says and Stiles stops. "Why are you here, Stiles?"

Stiles is obviously fighting with himself. 

"Come on, just tell me." Derek doesn't even realize he has stepped closer until he carefully puts a hand on Stiles shoulder. The poor guy looks like he's about to cry. 

And then the wall breaks and Stiles starts talking. 

"My Dad is gone for the week - something in New York, I don't even know exactly, and I can't - I had a nightmare - and so I drove around just to do something, I swear I didn't mean to even come here but then I stopped the jeep and was in the parking lot and I was so tired and then I let myself in - I swear I didn't mean to stay, but then I was so tired, and somehow, I felt like I could sleep, like this was _home_ , but I didn't want to sleep on the couch, and you weren't supposed to be back - and.. "

"Stiles."

Stiles stops talking, but isn't looking at Derek. He's looking to the ground and Derek, Derek can't deal with this right now. But he has to, because Stiles has a problem and Stiles is pack and Stiles is  _Stiles_ and Derek needs to look out for him. And in that moment, Stiles' phone goes off. 

Derek watches him get it out and wince when he sees the clock. 

"I have to go to school", Stiles says, and Derek nods. Stiles does an awkward gesture and walks backwards to the door, almost falling over Derek's chucked jeans, and when he's almost at the door, he stops and says: "How mad are you?" 

Derek just groans and says: "We're fine, now get out, I want to _sleep."_

And Stiles smiles and does. Derek falls into a bed that smells of Stiles and dreams of tangled limbs and whispered words and everything he doesn't have.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just keeps getting longer and longer. 
> 
> Leave me a comment, maybe?   
> Also, I have tumblr. 
> 
> allthosepaperpeople.tumblr.com


	5. The One Where Erica Totally Ships It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Okay. Whatever. Vampires. Now leave."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sketchbook is back! Yeah!
> 
> Also, thank you all so much for the lovely comments! They mean the world to me <3 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one!

When Derek wakes up, he feels a little more alive. He groans into his pillow and stays for a full ten minutes in bed, just lounging around. The world outside is not half as appealing as the warmth of his bed. 

But then again, he needs to go to the bathroom, so he gets up eventually and wanders out of the room, still sleepy and a little disoriented.

He sees the sketchbook lying on the table, but it takes him a while to realize what it is. And suddenly, he's awake, and staring at the book. He's still conflicted about it, invading Stiles' privacy versus being sure that Stiles isn't going bad again. Slowly, he takes the book in his hand. 

It's black and bound in leather, well worn and used. Derek hesitates for a moment, then he opens it on the first page. 

"Please don't."

Stiles voice is quiet, but Derek startles and shuts the book with a bang. 

"Jesus, Stiles", he says and runs a hand through his hair, "what are you doing here?" 

Stiles gestures vaguely to the grocery bag that's sitting next to him on the kitchen counter.   
"You didn't have food. So I... brought you some."

Hiss eyes flicker to the book nervously and Derek lifts it a little. "What is this, Stiles? Because I have to admit, you're acting a little too protective about it for my liking."

Stiles looks at the ground. "It's not a huge secret or something", he says finally, "it's just awkward to explain and I don't really..." He searches for words, but doesn't find any. 

Derek stares at him for a moment, then he puts the book down.

"You don't have to, but I think you should tell me. But only after I've had a shower." He sighs. "And coffee."

 

When he gets out of the bathroom, he's starting to feel normal again. Sure, there's the anxiety of whatever it is that Stiles is going to tell him, but at least he's well-rested and clean. There are two mugs with hot coffee on the table, and Stiles is sitting behind one of them, fiddling with the pages of the sketchbook.

Derek sits down and waits.

Stiles takes his time. He tries to start a couple of times, but always backs down again.

Finally, he says: "I had nightmares, after the Nogitsune. Not like before, but I would dream about the things it did with.. my body. I would see them again, the killings, and I would wake up and count fingers like crazy." He swallows hard. Derek feels bad for making him talk about it, but he knows that this is necessary, for both of them. 

"I went to Deaton", Stiles continues, "asked him for something to take away the memories."

Derek shakes his head. "That... "

"I know it's stupid", Stiles interrupts him.

"That's not what I was gonna say. It's impossible."

Stiles grins. There is no joy in it. "I know", he says, "that's what Deaton said. But he said that talking to a therapist should help." He laughs. "Unfortunately, if I told a therapist what happened, I'd be back in Eichenhouse faster than I could say Nogitsune." Derek wishes Stiles would have asked for help. But of course he didn't. It's very Stiles not to ask for help. 

"Anyways, so Deaton talked to Ms Morell, and Ms Morell found me someone." It doesn't surprise Derek. Stiles can't be the only one to have supernatural-related PTSD. 

"His name's Max, and he's human, born into a pack. He has a practice about half an hour from Beacon Hills."

Derek watches him as he speaks, how he worries his lip, how he's surer of himself by now. It's strange, because to Derek this feels so  _right,_ Stiles opening up and Derek just  _listening._ He hopes that one day, they can do it the other way around. He wants to talk about Helena, about what her death means for him, wants to tell him all the stupid things Laura used to do that he misses like crazy, he wants to lay it all bare for Stiles, and he knows the secrets would be safe, but he doesn't know if it would creep Stiles out, so he doesn't.

"At first", Stiles continues, "at first I went there every day. Then every second day. He got me into a support group, and it really helped." He swallows again. "I see him once a week now, and I go to support group once a month. I feel a lot better. Anyways, at first, it didn't seem to help. I'd constantly be reminded of stuff, and then I had mini panic-attacks"  _how could you not notice it, Derek, you're a shitty Alpha,_ "and then he told me to start a journal. Every time something makes me feel stuff, I write it down." He looks at it. "The first one lasted six days. But by now, things are much easier. It's just, these are very private." He looks around, anywhere but at Derek, and Derek _needs_ him to look, so he can see that it's okay, Derek understands, but Stiles doesn't. "It's not just supernatural stuff, or about traumatic things. It's everything I have felt in the past months." 

Derek nods. "So you didn't want us asking questions."

Stiles laughs. "Nobody asked them anyways. Scott got noisy once and I got loud, and nobody cared anymore."

"Wrong", Derek says. "They just respect you enough. They trust you."

Stiles smile is a little bitter. "Thanks, Derek." 

Derek wants to make him understand, but he can't. He doesn't know how to explain to Stiles that this is a pack, that they don't want to hurt him, don't want to push him, because he's been pushed too much already. They want him whole. 

They sit for a moment, then Stiles takes his book, dumps his coffee into the sink and says: "Anyways, I gotta get home. I'll see you soon, I guess?"

And Derek wants to make him stay, wants to talk some more, because Stiles talks all the time and he says so much, but Derek doesn't get to see this part, the vulnerable Stiles, the one whose scars are still healing, and he wants to make him feel less alone, but he can't. He's not the right one. 

"Yeah", he says, "see you around."

And just like that, Stiles is gone and Derek feels relieved that the sketchbook doesn't contain detailed plans on how to kill every single one of them, but he also wants Stiles to stick around. 

He gets up and goes into the kitchen. The grocery bags are still on the counter. Derek starts unpacking. There is fruit and vegetables, milk and flour and chocolate chips and some other stuff and on the ground, a note. 

**There's another baking sale. Thought maybe you wanted to try a new recipe. My grandma used to make these.**

The recipe is simple. Stiles bought all the ingredients.

Derek's heart warms at the gesture. He gets out a bowl and starts baking. 

 

Three days later, Derek gets a phone call. When he hangs up, he feels fear creeping up his neck, reminding him that running is no longer an option for him. Whatever comes, he has to look out for his pack. A pack that can't leave Beacon Hills. They have to stay, whatever comes, and he has to be there with them. It's not even a choice anymore. 

 

It's packnight, and Derek can't keep his eyes open. It's been a week since the call, and he doesn't sleep more than two hours a night. He knows it's dumb, knows he should keep himself well rested and prepared, but the worry gets to him. It's only nine o'clock when he excuses himself and closes the bedroom door. 

It doesn't stay closed long. Derek has time to strip down to his boxers before Stiles slips into the room. 

"Don't you knock?", Derek says and gets under the blanket. 

"Okay, big guy, spill." Stiles is just standing there, arms crossed, leaning against the wall. 

"I'm tired. Go away."

Stiles shakes his head. "Something's up, and I think it's something big. I get that you don't want to worry the Betas, but you need to tell me so I can come up with an amazing plan that will save all your asses. Now, start talking."

Derek sighs. "It's probably nothing."

Stiles shrugs. "Nothing that seems to keep you up at night."

"I got a call saying that something might pass through, that's all."

Stiles throws up his hands. "That is so specific, it has its own Wikipedia page."

Derek rolls his eyes. "Look, this is a longer story. Can we do this tomorrow?"

Stiles looks at him for a while, then he pushes himself off the wall and says: "Okay. But you have to give me one word. Just so I have something I can over analyze the shit out of."

"Aliens."

"Don't."

"Okay. Whatever. Vampires. Now leave."

Stiles stares at him. "Are you serious?" 

"No." Derek sighs again. "Witchcraft. Seriously. Now please, let me sleep."

Stiles shakes his head. "Sweet dreams", he says and gets out. 

 

Derek dreams of running. Not running away, running to. He doesn't know what he's running to, but he has to get there, fast. 

_Pack._

The word echoes in his mind like a thunder, a warning, and his feet are glued to the ground and then there is Stiles voice. 

"Sh, Derek, 's okay."

And everything goes blissfully black. 

 

Something is different. There is something warm and heavy next to him, pressed into his side and lying half on top of him. When he stirs a little, he feels a foot nudge his. 

It doesn't feel like danger, doesn't feel like he needs to wake up, so he takes his time, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. 

The first thing he notices is the smell. It confuses him greatly until he realizes that he has his nose literally buried in somebodies hair. He's lying on his back, a head on his chest and a warm, breathing body in his arm, a hand that isn't his lying on his stomach. 

The second thing he notices is the flash when Erica snaps a picture. 

He's still confused, until the person on him stirs and he can identify it as Stiles, and then he hears Erica squeal: "It's so  _cute._ "

"What?", Stiles croaks and wakes up completely. He pushes himself up, looks around and then at Derek, and for a moment, his mouth goes slack and he just stares at Derek. 

"Did we have sex and I don't remember?", he blurts out. 

Derek wants to die. "I think Erica is behind this", he says and wrestles himself out of the embrace to go into the living room, where the Beta's are huddled around Erica's camera.

"What. The. Fuck. Erica." He says it as if having Stiles in his bed is the worst thing that has ever happened. Apparently, nobody believes him. 

"You look so cute", Kira says and beams at him. 

"Don't give him the camera", Lydia says, "he might delete it."

But Derek has gotten a glimpse at the picture, and she's right, it's adorable. Stiles is drooling on Derek's naked stomach and Derek looks at him with bewilderment. It makes Derek's chest hurt. He would never delete that. 

Stiles stumbles out of the bedroom and says: "Can anybody explain to me what the fuck is going on?"

Erica grins and says: "In my defense, we just put you next to Derek. The cuddling was all you guys."

And so begins the most horrible hour of Derek's life. Well, almost. But he feels relieved when the pack finally leaves, and even more relieved that Stiles hasn't asked about the witches again.

Later he tells himself that he should have known it wouldn't be so simple. He should have known that Stiles wouldn't give up that quickly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, find me on tumblr. 
> 
> allthosepaperpeople.tumblr.com
> 
> Leave a comment maybe? I love to hear from you guys!! Tell me what theories you had about the sketchbook, maybe :)
> 
> We're down to number four, btw! 
> 
> Also, I just wanted to say that I put the mature rating for the drinking and the bad words, but I won't write smut into this. It's happy and innocent :P (Also, I don't want to scar my sister in case she's reading this :D)


	6. The One Where Scott Loses A Bet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles stabs a finger into his chest. "Wrong moment for the funny, Derek. I don't want the witch to come here, end of it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is it. The final chapter. Meh. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Stiles turns up the day after that with a look of slight panic on his face and three big books in his hands. 

"So I haven't even actually  _started_ my research and I'm already thinking about moving to Mexico because Witches? Are going to end us", he says and puts the books on the table. Derek groans. 

"You want the entire population of Beacon Hills to move to Mexico?"

Stiles stabs a finger into his chest. "Wrong moment for the funny, Derek. I don't want the witch to come here, end of it."

Derek sighs. "I know. What did you find?"

 

They spend hours on it, bringing Lydia into it. 

"Basically, Derek got a call from an old friend that said that there seems to be a witch moving towards Beacon Hills. That's all we know", Stiles explains to her. 

"Is it a malicious one?", Lydia asks and frowns. "What do we know about her motives?"

"Nothing", Derek says. "My friend is Gifted, she can see things. She only saw a witch in Beacon Hills and called to warn me."

"So she could be nice, right?"

Lydia is right, of course she could be. But Derek has no experience with them, has no idea how to find out if they are trustworthy, and it scares him. More than the pack of Alpha's. That was pain. This is magic. 

"Maybe", he says, but he knows he doesn't sound convinced.

"But it says here that a White Witch would need the consent of the current holders of the territory, right?", Stiles chips in. "So she couldn't just move here and start practicing without Derek's okay. If she's White, why hasn't she said anything? Shouldn't she like announce herself or something?"

Derek shrugs. "Daealio didn't say when she was coming. Just that she was already on her way."

Lydia taps a pencil against her lips. "I think we have to focus on what to do if she's a Dark one. White won't be a problem, but Dark is."

So they do. They do research and they ask Deaton, and at some point, they get the rest of the pack in to update them. 

Nobody talks about Erica's prank and the picture. Shoulders are tense, and everybody is scared, even if they don't want to admit it. For some reason, now that they are in the middle of it, Stiles is the one that smells the least of fear. He's completely in the zone, throwing questions like punches, he doesn't even realize how much the others look to him for ideas. 

It warms Derek's heart, how much Stiles is the center of the pack in situations like this. 

In the end, they decide that Deaton will make Talismans for them, things that will keep magic from affecting the pack. 

"I have to warn you", he says before he leaves, "they will also weaken your werewolf powers. Your sense will dim, and maybe some of you will struggle with control. If you're willing to take that, I can have them by tomorrow night."

They all go home after that, to spend some time with their families. 

"It's weird", Stiles says right before he leaves, "we're not used to this anymore. A year ago, nobody would have gone home. We weren't this scared. We all knew we had to react, there was no time to think about it too much." 

Derek shrugs. "The things were always already here when we started planning the battles. Nobody likes waiting."

Stiles looks at him. "Yeah, nobody does", he mutters and goes home. 

Derek can't shake the feeling that he meant something other than waiting for the witch. 

 

Derek wakes up because somebody opens the door to the bedroom. He recognizes Stiles immediately - the scent is too strong for it to be anybody else. 

Stiles doesn't switch on the light. He stands there for a moment, then he takes a step into the room and closes the door.

"Stiles?", Derek says into the darkness. 

"It's me", Stiles says. He sounds normal, but his speech is a little slurred. 

"Are you drunk?", Derek says, now completely confused. He hears fabric rustling. Stiles seems to be taking his shirt off.

"No."

"What's going on?"

"Nothing."

Derek props himself up on his elbows. He hears Stiles jeans hit the ground, then there is tapping as Stiles walks over to the empty side of the bed.

"You're kinda scaring me. What are you doing?" 

The mattress dips when Stiles gets on it. He lifts Derek's cover and slides in next to him. Derek's eyes have adapted by now, he can see Stiles in vague shapes. He falls back onto his back and turns to Stiles, who lifts Derek's arm and slips under it. He puts his head on Derek's shoulder, his arm over Derek's torso and Derek can't breathe with how right this feels, but he doesn't really understand and he can't let it go, so he whispers: "Why are you here, Stiles?"

And Stiles lifts his head and Derek sees his eyes, up close, honest and sincere, and then Stiles says: "Because I want to."

 

 

Derek wakes up because Stiles does. But waking up doesn't seem like the right word, because Stiles bolts upright and hits Derek's chin with his head. 

"Ouch! What the fuck, Derek?", Stiles says and scrambles away from Derek. 

It hurts, but it also makes Derek angry. It's not like this was his idea. 

"What the fuck, Stiles?", he says, "How about you tell me? You turn up here in the middle of the night and start fucking cuddling me and say that you want to _be_ here and I, god, I  _believe_ you and let you stay and then you wake me up by headbutting me and yelling at me? Yeah, what the fuck, Stiles!"

Stiles just stares at him. "Wait, what do you mean I turned up here?" 

Derek glares. "Like you don't remember."

"I don't." Stiles voice is very small suddenly, and Derek is scared because not remembering is not good, never good. 

The discussion is interrupted though, because in that moment Scott burst in.

"What the - no, wrong moment", he says and flings a piece of paper at Derek. 

**I'm in the preserve and I have the banshee. Come and find me.**

And just like that, the waiting is over. 

 

 

They don't waste any time. The pack comes together at the side in the forest, where the weekly runs start, and they venture into the preserve together, as a front. 

Nobody mentions how pale Stiles looks, how he fiddles with his hand, and nobody mentions that it's probably pretty stupid not to wait for Deaton's talismans, but everybody knows that they don't have a choice. 

They find them on a clearing, sitting across each other on the ground. Both have their eyes closed, but when they get closer, they open them and stand up. 

Lydia is wearing her pajamas and her hair is up in a lazy ponytail. But she looks unharmed and that seems to be the most important thing right now. 

"I'm okay", she says, and Derek can hear Allison exhale loudly. 

"Good", he says and looks at the witch. 

She's surprisingly average. In height, in looks, with short, blonde hair and blue eyes. She's wearing a blue dress and a purple cape over it, and she stands upright and proud. 

"So", she says, "Alpha Hale and his pack." She looks at all of them, one after another, and Derek can't help but growl when she stares at Stiles even longer than the others. 

The witch just laughs. "I'm not here to hurt anybody."

"Kinda hard to believe", Derek says, and bares his fangs.

She sighs. "Look, if I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. I've just cast a minor spell to get your attention - just so you're aware of what I can do."

Derek shakes his head. "You have no right to invade like this. You should leave." 

She huffs. "You're very aggressive. Here's the deal: I won't leave. Wanna know why? Because the magic here is strong, and it's floating around, and that's dangerous. I only noticed it by mistake, and you can bet your pretty eyes that I won't be the last one to do so. There are people out there that can't get their hands onto this, or everybody will have  _serious_  problems."

"And you should get your hands on it? A Dark Witch? Seriously?" Isaac's voice is trembling a little. He's scared. Really scared. Being a werewolf means that he can defend himself, it's what is most important to him, and he can't do anything against this. 

She smiles. "Dark Witches have a really bad reputation. I have no interest in eating children or killing anything. I just don't like the restrictions that come with being White."

She sighs. "I won't pretend that the magic here is like a huge thanksgiving dinner all for me. And I have no intention of leaving. But I think we should handle out a truce, or even a pact. I can be very beneficial for you. And I would rather not be in a fight with the local pack - I don't need your consent to use this land, but I sure as hell would appreciate it. So? Are we talking?"

Before Derek can say anything, Lydia walks over to him and pulls him aside. 

"We should make a pact", she says. 

"Are you  _crazy_?", Stiles says and looks like he isn't sure what to do with her. 

"Shut up, Stiles", Lydia says, "she's right. We can use the help. And she isn't too bad. If anybody accesses this power, it should be someone like Alice."

" _Alice_ ", Stiles says. "So you're on first name basis with her now?"

Lydia rolls her eyes. "Look, just trust me on this for once, okay? We will get the talismans and we're gonna keep up the research, but for now, we should make a pact. She stays out of our business, we stay out of hers. If any harm comes to someone in Beacon Hills at her hands, we take action. It's simple. At least consider it."

And Derek does. He thinks about all the allies they've had over the years before the fire, how his mother always said that it's important to have different powers around. He knows that Deaton will know how to set up a magic pact that can't be broken, and he knows that Lydia doesn't trust easily. 

Apparently, Stiles can read him like an open book, because he storms forward and hisses at the witch: "Fine. But if you ever get into my head like that again, I will find a way to make you regret it."

The witch -  _Alice_ \- looks at him for a moment, then she says: "Yes, you will."  _  
_

After that, they all find themselves on the ground, discussing rules.

 

Right before they leave the clearing, Alice takes Derek aside for a moment. 

"Look", she says, "I don't know what exactly Stiles did last night that he's so furious with me, but whatever he did, I have a feeling that it involves you, and you should know what kind of spell I put on him."

Derek nods. After all, he would like to know why Stiles climbed into his bed and clung to him like an octopus. Not that he's complaining. 

"I put the spell on him and Lydia, because I knew that they both have things that they want badly and don't have. So I made them do exactly what they craved most, regardless of circumstance." She grins. "Imagine my surprise when Lydia found me and demanded to be taught about her powers." She shakes her head in wonder. "She's remarkable. Anyways. I don't know what Stiles did, but, you know, whatever it is, he really wanted it. It was all him. You should tell him that. "

"See you around", Derek says and leaves. There is something he needs to take care of. 

 

Stiles waits until Scott gets in, then he starts the Jeep. Scott last an entire minute of listening to Stiles' pointless babbling before he says: "So, did you finally talk to Derek?"

"No", Stiles says, "I think I just drove to his place, climbed into his bed and said something about wanting to be there and fell asleep. I think. That's what he said happened. I don't remember."

Scott makes a face. "Shit dude, I'm sorry. Anything I can do to make it better?" 

Stiles shakes his head. They've had the talk about Isaac and about replacements, and Scott is balancing it better. Stiles can't completely shake the jealousy, but they are fine. It makes Stiles feel a lot better that Scott is willing to listen to him again. 

"Nah. Unless you want to come to my place tonight and eat a shit ton of unhealthy food that will not affect your health 'cause you have supercool healing powers and watch Star Wars, no, nothing you can do."

"Then I'll do.. that." Scott waves his hand around and Stiles laughs. 

They make the plans for the evening, then Scott suggests Stiles stay for lunch and they get out of the car at the McCall house. 

Scott walks up to the porch while Stiles still fumbles with the lock of the car when the Camaro stops sharply a little farther down the road and Derek gets out. 

Scott and Stiles both turn around and see the Alpha walk over to them, direction Stiles, with a murderous and determined look on his face. It's been a while since Stiles has been at the receiving end of that glare. He backs off slightly. 

"What ever I did -", he starts and then Derek is there, steps directly into his space and takes his face into his hands and crashes their lips together. 

It takes Stiles a moment to adapt, but then he's kissing back like he's dying, because who knows, maybe this is the only chance he will ever get, and so he opens his mouth and slips his tongue into Derek's mouth and Derek pulls him  _even closer_ and then Scott says: "Shit, I owe Allison fifty bucks."

They break apart, but Derek doesn't let go of Stiles face and Stiles realizes he's clutching Derek's shirt and then Derek says: "Go out with me."

And Stiles says: "You're buying." 

And Derek says: "This time, yes."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. This was so much fun to do. Thank you all for the nice comments, you made me want to keep writing like crazy. I've asked around about fanart, but haven't gotten a response yet - if I do, I will probably post about it on tumblr and put the art in the fic. If you have questions, happen to have drawn something, have a request or a prompt or even just want to say hi, please, my ask box is open and anon is on!
> 
> allthosepaperpeople.tumblr.com
> 
> Thanks for reading and I love you all? <3


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